


under the same sky

by ghostlypup



Series: coffee shop au [3]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst, Communication, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlypup/pseuds/ghostlypup
Summary: Lucas smiles and jumps up, blowing a kiss as he goes. Eliott watches from where he sits, until he can’t see him anymore, and lets himself smile ridiculously and embarrassingly wide.Or, Eliott has something to tell Lucas.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: coffee shop au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594150
Comments: 26
Kudos: 179





	under the same sky

_ But I won't be afraid of the changes coming _

_ While I know a love that is sure as the morning _

*

Spring is wrapping its arms around the world now, like an old friend; romantically and slow, painting the campus in deep hues of green and it’s premise of new beginnings and fresh starts. A good morning kiss to the world waking up from a deep slumber of sad grey skies. Eliott’s head always feels clearer this time of year. A burst of energy and inspiration that always takes him by surprise, but he always holds out and catches it and takes it with him. Eliott walks with an extra bounce in his step because of it.

Also, because Eliott Demaury is in love. 

He’s never been in love before, not like this. 

He’s in love with a lot of things; art, the colour of the sky right before sunset, the smell of rain during summer.

But he’s never felt a love like this before, not one where it makes him want to burst and shake everyone he ever sees and scream that he’s in love. It’s a deep, fuzzy feeling right in his stomach that feels like it belongs there. Like the excitement he’s always been missing. The type of love he would daydream about, but never feeling as if it was his to have. 

It’s all he can think about, to be honest. 

And he’s going to tell him. 

Eliott strolls out of the building and sees him resting underneath a tree, his back perched up and eyes shut and shaded by the leaves. 

The sun kisses his skin gorgeously; another reason why it’s his favourite season. Everyone always looks good bathed in late springtime yellow.

He walks over and looms over where he sits, blocks the sunlight and Lucas’ eyes peek open. A smile blossoms his face and he reaches his arms up, stretches and arches his back like a cat. 

“Hi.” Eliott says, tilting his head gently to one side. 

“Hey.” Lucas then makes grabby hands at Eliott until he leans forward and drags Eliott down with him. Lucas sits up as Eliott rests his back against the tree. “Didn’t you have work today?” 

“I did. I got off early though. And,” he then reaches round to his bag, digs around a bit and brings out a white paper bag. “These are for you.” 

Lucas plops it down in his lap and Eliott tears the bag open to see two fresh croissants. He looks up and Lucas is smiling. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, leans forward and kisses his cheek. “You’re the best.” Then one on the other one, and one on his nose. “Seriously.” 

Lucas ducks his head and blushes, rubs at his cheeks as if it will somehow get rid of the soft pink glow. “They’re the almond ones you liked. I saved what I could for you.” 

He grabs a croissant out the bag and tears some off, dropping it into his mouth. The pastry melts in his mouth, sweet and still warm and it dissolves whatever stress he could feel like snow in the sun. Closing his eyes, he moans and then relaxes against the tree again. 

“You’re the best.” He sighs, content, sluggish; like honey is filling his bones. 

Lucas laughs and leans into him. “It’s nothing.” 

After he swallows he opens his eyes and looks at Lucas. He reaches out and places his palm on the underside of Lucas’ chin and leans in. Eliott kisses him slow and makes it chaste and deep. He tastes like coffee and sugar and boy and the sigh that leaves Lucas’ mouth goes straight to the back of his spine. An electric, tingly feeling. One that has the hair on his arms and the back of his neck raising. 

He parts and bumps their noses together. 

“It’s everything.” Eliott pinches his hip. “Thank you.” 

Lucas smiles at him and then tears a bit of the croissant for himself. He hums as he chews, and Eliott wipes the small flakes that land on his cheek distractedly. 

“Was class alright?” Lucas asks, moving to lean back and smirk. “You look pretty happy for a guy that’s just had a three hour lecture.” 

Eliott nods. “Yeah, it was great actually. It was a practical, so.” He sighs, closes his eyes against the sun again. “Plus no one can be sad in this weather.” 

Lucas snorts. “God, you’re the weirdest uni student ever.” 

“Shut up.” Lucas winks at him and then sits up, moving to sit cross legged in front of him. 

“So,” he brings his hands down to Eliott’s exposed ankles, runs his finger against his skin. “Are you free tomorrow evening?” 

Eliott gives him a knowing smile. 

“Tomorrow evening?” Lucas nods. “Maybe.” 

“Maybe?”

“Mhm,” Eliott shrugs, faking nonchalance. “I might have a date or something.” 

“Eliott!” Lucas scoffs.

“Kidding,” he draws it out, winks at Lucas. Reaching out, he pulls Lucas back into him, drops a kiss to the crown of his head. “I’m free tomorrow evening.” 

“Good.” Lucas huffs.

“What do you have planned?” Eliott asks, pushing the bit of fringe that falls into Lucas’ eyes. 

“Something.” Lucas smiles. “It’s my time to impress you.” 

“Impress me?”

“Yup.” 

Eliott laughs, squeezes around his shoulder. “You already impress me.” 

Lucas groans, squishes his face into Eliott’s jacket. “That was bad.” 

“Sorry.” Eliott says, smiling. Not really sorry at all. 

They lie quiet for a while until Lucas’ phone pings. He watches as he fishes it out of his pocket. Lucas looks at it for a while, and frowns. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, pushing off Eliott. “Sorry, I have to go back to the shop. They need me back.” 

Eliott pouts. “Already?” 

“Apparently so.” 

“Can’t someone cover for you?” 

Lucas huffs. “That's why they need me back, to cover for someone.” 

“Fuck.” Eliott sighs. “What about after? I can come round yours?” 

Lucas smiles and shakes his head. “My roommates will be round. I don’t think I’m ready for you to meet them yet.” Lucas cringes. “Or for them to meet you.” 

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” Eliott laughs.

“Trust me.” Lucas raises his eyebrows. 

He then leans up and kisses Eliott hard on the mouth, once, twice. “Tomorrow okay?”

“Okay.” Eliott nods. “I’m ready to be impressed.” 

Lucas smiles and jumps up, blowing a kiss as he goes. Eliott watches from where he sits, until he can’t see him anymore, and lets himself smile ridiculously and embarrassingly wide. 

_ I love you. _

He knows he doesn’t have to say it with words.

  
  
It’s raining again by the time they get on the bus, but Eliott doesn’t mind. He always loves the melancholic lilt it gives everything. There’s something bittersweet about spring showers; the grasp of sun you’ve only just got back not wanting to fall through your fingers, but knowing it needs to happen to keep the world going. 

And maybe it’s also because Lucas leans into him slightly more than usual, his arms wrapped knowingly and warm against his side. The way he whispers  _ it’s freezing _ , as if an excuse to rest his cheek on Eliott’s shoulder. 

Eliott kisses the side of his head in reply. 

Lucas had texted him to meet him by the coffee shop at exactly 7pm. He had arrived no later to Lucas waiting outside, leaning on his bike, work clothes folded in front of him. They kissed when Lucas looked up and saw him and then Lucas shoved his clothes in his bag and pulled out a small daisy from his pocket, gave it to Eliott saying,  _ for you  _ and wouldn’t stop laughing when he said that all of the flower shops had closed before his shift ended. 

Eliott laughed, too, and kissed him hard on the mouth, and fell in love all over again. 

They don’t stay on the bus long, and Lucas grabs Eliott’s hand in a hurry when they get off, dragging them both through the rain. Eliott smiles as they do, like he always has been. It aches in the best kind of way. The only ache Eliott wants to ever feel. 

When they do arrive it’s to a big-ish building, one that Eliott instantly recognises. One they passed a few nights ago, stumbling slightly tipsy into each other on their walk home from the bar. It was a new art gallery, and Eliott swam the idea past Lucas. 

If he was being honest, he forgot about it. His wine drunk brain slightly blurry, more in tune to the way Lucas’ skin felt under his hands that same night. 

“You like it?” Lucas asks as they get under the shelter of the opening. 

“This is—“ 

“I know.” Lucas says, giddy. “I looked up the ticket prices and they were quite cheap, so,” Lucas says gently, and then backpedals immediately, “Not that I wouldn’t spend money on you, or anything I just—“ 

Eliott brings him in by the shoulders and kisses his forehead. His hands bunches up the wet material of Lucas’ jacket, hands crawling up to his neck. He rubs the skin there, closing his eyes and sighing. 

“You remembered,” he whispers. “Of course you remembered.” 

Eliott doesn’t know whether he hears it, but Lucas pulls back and looks up. 

“You like it?” The amber light from indoors pools around Lucas, throwing a small shadow on his cheek. Eliott brings his thumb up and traces it. 

“You’re something else, Lucas.” Eliott smiles. 

He laughs, tipping his head up. “I take that as a yes then?” Eliott nods, and then Lucas turns them to walk into the building.

  
They traipse around the gallery slowly. 

And Eliott loves it, he does. So much. Lucas could have brought him to a random field in the middle of nowhere and he would’ve loved it just the same.

But they’re walking, sides plastered together and Lucas' arm is warm around his back and it’s kind of hard to concentrate on anything but that. The smooth skin of his thumb lifting his shirt up every once to rub at his hip bone. 

It’s hard to look at the paintings and observe it or interpret it, or whatever his pretentious art student self is supposed to do, when every time they come across a new painting Lucas squeezes his side and leans on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Something about what he thinks it means or how the colours look nice. 

Eliott really should learn to get a grip, really, but it’s hard when all Eliott wants to do is push him into a corner and kiss him.  _ Hard.  _

He squeezes the bottom of the plastic champagne glass currently cradled in his hand a little tighter instead. 

“Can you see your art here one day?” Lucas asks when they reach a particularly big piece. 

“My art?” 

“Yeah,” Lucas says, tipping his head up to look at Eliott. “Like is this something you want?” 

Eliott shrugs slightly. “I don’t know, I guess.” 

“No?” 

Eliott pauses for a while. He’s never really thought about it, he supposes. 

“Maybe,” he begins. “I guess it’s overwhelming to think like that.” 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to—“

“No,” Eliott interrupts him gently. “Not like that. I guess I’ve always admired people who put their stuff so out there. Like this.” 

He looks forward and imagines it. His art, his paintings on big walls like these. For people, anyone, to walk by and see. 

“I guess there’s an element of bravery to it. I guess I’ve never really seen myself as a brave enough person to do that.” 

“You don’t think you’re brave?” 

“I don’t know,” Eliott smiles. “Not that I’m not brave. But I just don’t think I could handle people putting me down. People like these,” he gestures towards the paintings. “They often detach themselves from their work. I don’t want to do that.” 

Lucas looks up at him in question. 

Eliott bites his lip. “Everything I create seems personal to me. If I make something that got me through something, and someone says it’s the worst thing they’ve ever seen— I don’t think I could handle that.” 

Eliott shakes himself slightly and laughs. “Sorry, that’s pretty narcissistic right?” 

Lucas smiles. “No,” he pulls him in with the hand around his hip, as if they could get any closer. He rests his head against Eliott’s shoulder and looks at the art in front of them. “I think it’s brave.” 

Eliott wants to say it. Right now. 

“You know,” Lucas says, lifting his head. He pulls his arm round and intertwines their hands instead. “You’ve never shown me anything you’ve done. And you did promise you would one day.” 

“Did I?” Eliott grins. 

Lucas nods, swaying their arms. “Have you got anything you can show me?” 

“Maybe.” Eliott raises his eyebrows. 

Lucas laughs and then wraps his arms around Eliott’s shoulders. He kisses him, slow. Perhaps a bit too slow for the setting they’re in. Eliott can’t find it in himself to care. 

“Want to go to yours?” Lucas whispers as they part. 

Eliott kisses him again, pours all he wants to say and lets it melt into Lucas’ mouth. 

  
Eliott’s insides feel syrupy and drawn out, like everything’s moving a beat slower as they walk back, and as they unlock the door to his apartment, as Lucas pushes him up against his door as soon as it shuts. There’s a haze surrounding his vision and it’s soft and orange and makes the world look better than it is. It makes Eliott understand love a little better. 

Eliott leans his head back as Lucas places one, two long kisses on his neck. A sigh from his mouth that travels into the air around them, making it even more thick. It’s suffocating in a way that’s comforting; like there’s no room to breath except the space between their lips, and it makes him want to crash them together. Like salted sea waves onto a shore. 

Eliott wants to be pushed down into his bed, he  _ wants  _ to be overwhelmed. And it’s easy, with Lucas. It’s always so easy. 

Lucas tugs at his jacket and he gets the message, smiling as he untangles it from himself. Lucas does, too. Let’s the material fall to the ground and then he’s reaching up and kissing him again. Slow and warm, his tongue and body grazing Eliott’s. 

Eliott reaches his hands down and then lifts him up, Lucas laughing into his mouth. 

“You drop me and you’re dead.” Eliott laughs, squeezes his thighs as Lucas wraps his legs around Eliott’s back. 

“I would never.” He whispers against his lips. 

Eliott carries them to his room, Lucas wrapped around him. He knocks against a few walls, but all Lucas does is bite down on his lip, laughs gently. 

Once in his room, Eliott drops him down into his bed and Lucas looks up at him. He parts, then sits up, sitting on his knees. Slowly, lazy, he takes off his shirt and feels Lucas’ hands follow its path. Nimble fingers and warm hands that feel molten against his skin. His abs clench, and he sighs as he feels Lucas’ lips join in. Following up, kisses that feel lighter than air, until he rests his chin on his stomach, looking up at him. Eliott burrows his hand in his hair, then bends back down, pushing Lucas into the sheets beneath him. 

Eliott kisses him, like he’s wanted to all night. Like he wants to do forever. His hand crawls up Lucas’ own shirt and Lucas groans into his mouth, pulling back to lift it up and over his head. He accidentally elbows Eliott in the stomach as he does and Eliott grunts. 

“Fuck, sorry.” Lucas whispers, smiling. 

“No you’re not.” 

“I’m really not.” Lucas laughs, shaking his head. 

Eliott rolls his eyes, collapsing onto his side. Lucas turns too, and they come together slowly, more tenderly this time. A slowness that feels drowsy. They kiss slow, face to face, Eliott wandering a hand down to hitch Lucas’ leg over his own. 

“You know,” Lucas whispers, his hand crawling up to rest on Eliott’s shoulder. “I still want to see your art.” Lucas wiggles his eyebrows.

“Now?” Eliott laughs. 

Lucas nods, bumping their noses together. 

Eliott sighs, squeezes his hand that’s placed firmly on Lucas’ thigh. He goes to lean in again but Lucas brings a finger up on his lip. 

“Please?” 

And, Eliott’s never been able to say no to him. Has he ever, really. 

“Fine,” Eliott groans, sitting up. “Torturer.” 

Lucas laughs as he gets up from the bed, and then digs around his room until he finds something. 

For a second, there’s a brief flash of insecurity and nervousness that worms it’s way into his mind. He’s shown his art to countless people before, the downside to being an actual art student. The anxiety around being vulnerable about it all tends to fade rather quickly. But, for some reason it feels different. He feels naked, stripped bare in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s exciting as it is scary. 

He finds an old portfolio, and brings it over. Lucas has inched up the bed, resting against the pillows. Eliott knee walks up the bed to sit next to him. 

“Here,” he says gently, placing it on Lucas' lap.

Lucas smiles, turns and drops a quick kiss to Eliott’s cheek. He opens the book, and Eliott has to stop himself from looking at Lucas. Just stares at his hands skimming across the paper instead. 

“Wow,” Lucas whispers. “These are beautiful.” 

Eliott doesn’t say anything, watching as Lucas traces his finger around the outline of the sketch. They’re of his parents, quick characters studies he didn’t really pay attention to. 

“Who are they?” 

Eliott turns to him as Lucas does. 

“My parents.” Eliott smiles. Lucas looks back down and traces the outline of the sketch, flipping through the pages of deep charcoal indents. 

He watches as Lucas swallows, his eyes never leaving the page. “Are you guys close?” 

Eliott nods. 

“With both of them?” 

“Yeah,” Eliott whispers. It’s all hushed tones, as if the air is glass and anything louder might break it into sharp pieces. “We’ve always been close.” 

Lucas smiles, and there’s a glimmer of something in his eye. 

“They’re beautiful.” 

Eliott laughs. “I guess I did flatter them a bit in these drawings.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes, shakes his head softly. “I guess this is the best way to see someone,” he says, and turns to Eliott again. “Through the eyes of an artist.” 

Shaking his head gently, he lifts his hand up to grab Lucas chin, tilts it and kisses him. Short, and then long, grounding. 

“What about you?” Eliott asks, stroking his finger along his cheek. “Are you close with your parents?”

Lucas flicks his eyes down to his chest. He breaths in, and out. Purses his lips, and Eliott recognises that look. 

“My mum.” Lucas nods, looking up again. “She means the world to me.” 

He doesn’t say anything after that, and Eliott drags his thumb down to his neck, presses the skin there, firm. Eliott grabs the sketchbook, throws it onto his desk. Sitting up in front of him, he grabs his arms and drags him down on top of him. 

“I’m going to draw you one day.” Eliott says, kissing the side of his jaw. 

“Yeah?” Lucas sighs.

“Mhm.” Eliott nods, and then hooks a leg round Lucas’ and lips them over. 

He kisses him into the bed, and Lucas arches up into his hands that sits around his waist. His skin is warm underneath his palms and his lips as he presses them down his chest. Eliott is starting to guess that Lucas’ carries a lot of hurt, somewhere. So he kisses and touches him soft, softer than the world around him. Relinquishes in the way Lucas’ hands skim up and down his back as he moves, as he grips his hair a little too tight and breathes hot into the air around them making it heavy, weighted. 

  
And after, when the rest of the world is asleep, they walk into the kitchen, drowsy, and Lucas makes tea and they sip it between them, fingers brushing every time they pass the mug. Sitting as close as possible in the small balcony in Eliott’s kitchen. They crawl back into bed with the windows wide open and the curtains drawn, and the moon and whatever's left of the rainfall leaks into the apartment. Lucas whispers facts about the sky, ones that sound all too complicated for Eliott to really understand properly, but he smiles nonetheless, drags his hand up and down Lucas’ arm, feeling the hair on his skin peak lightly. And then they go quiet, and Eliott brings his hand up against the light from the outside street lamp pooling in his room, and Lucas does too, wraps and intertwines their fingers together when they touch. 

He remembers thinking that he doesn’t want to fall asleep, and says that he doesn’t want to miss anything, and he remembers Lucas laughing in his ear saying that he’s not going anywhere. 

  
Eliott knows that inevitably things will drop at some point. He’s used it, kind of. By now he knows the signs, what to expect, what to do. It doesn’t make it sting any less, obviously. No one likes it when you feel like you need to spend a whole week in bed in order to feel normal again. But it happens. He let’s the weeks and days bleed in together, and let’s his head fill with clouds, knowing that they’ll always pass over soon. Like seasons changing. 

However, he’s never had this before. 

Love.  _ Lucas.  _

There’s a reason, he knew there was, as to why he let nobody linger around for too long. The cynical part of his brain always pokes and prods and tells him that it’s always easier to let everyone go. It’s always easier. 

Yet, Lucas has lingered. And now Eliott feels so frustrated he could cry.

The small flower above his window, the one that Eliott found in his pocket after Lucas left, and had placed on his windowsill has wilted and Eliott wants to grab it between his hands and squish it until it’s nothing. He feels like he’s been watching it for so long he saw the petals droop, it’s stem bending and slowly falling. 

There’s a text in his phone, one from Lucas, that’s been sitting in his inbox for two days now. It said  _ are you free? my roommates are out for the night _ with several love hearts after it. 

It sits so heavy in his phone it feels like it weighs his hands down. 

Eliott didn’t have the energy to get out of bed yesterday, or today. Or tomorrow, he thinks. He’s always had just himself to worry about. But Lucas is new and Eliott wants to explain it all to him that  _ no, I’m not ignoring you  _ and  _ I also don’t want to see you but not in that way.  _

He just wants to be alone, but trying to explain that seems like the most impossible thing in the world to do right now. 

And so he locks his phone, again, shoves it under his pillow, and pretends it doesn’t exist for a little while longer. 

  
A little turns into a lot, and one text turns into many. Text, assignments, emails. They pile on to each other as Eliott continues feeling like he’s in a daydream. He manages to email his professor, grateful in the fact that he’s always been easy going and is already aware of everything. 

But, Lucas. Lucas is new, isn’t he. No matter how good he is. God, he’s  _ so  _ good. But, new is always scary and Eliott hasn’t learnt to separate the two yet. 

But. There’s a spark, somewhere, that’s red hot and it presses against his ribs and tells him that this shouldn’t be something scary. It’s in the shape of Lucas’ hand, the one that cradled the pages of his sketchbook so delicately, the one that then skimmed across his skin so warm, that held his cheek whilst he said that he was beautiful, the one that wrapped around his arm and told him he was brave. And it makes it all come to a stop, gently. 

He finds his phone and texts him a love heart, it’s all he can really manage. And it doesn’t really surprise him when he immediately texts back. 

He sighs, his thumbs hovering above the keyboard. If he’s being honest, he’s tired of staring at his dim grey walls all day. 

_ can i come to yours?  _

**_i’m at work :(_ **

_ is it busy?  _

**_no_ **

**_people always prefer bars in weather like this_ **

He rereads the text, then pockets his phone, throws on a somewhat manageable outfit in a sluggish haze, then leaves his apartment. 

  
  
Lucas and Eliott sit on a grassy bit in the park opposite the coffee shop, one they’ve spent multiples times in if Lucas was ever on a break, cross legged and knees brushing where they sit facing each other. 

Eliott had walked into the coffee shop and it was weird, just how familiar and comforting it made him. The aroma of wood and coffee and pastries felt like the way the sun feels on your face when you close your eyes, when you come home after being away for a long period of time, like a comforting hand draped across your back. He had spotted him, serving their only customer and he walked up to him after, to worried eyes and tentiative hands. 

The girl working beside him had come up to him, whispered something in his ear and then he stripped his apron off, grabbed his hand and led them out the door. 

He had asked where they were going and Lucas turned and smiled, and simply said that they were going to get ice cream. Like they always have, like it was just a regular day. It should annoy Eliott, but it doesn’t. It infuses a sense of normality Eliott has been washed away from this past week. 

And now Eliott eats a spoonful of ice cream and it bursts so sweet on his tongue he could almost cry. It’s almost overwhelming, tiring. And there’s an anger in there, somewhere, too. He always gets angry at the tail end of a low point. He feels like he’s missed out on something big even though life continues around like normal, like he’s wasted days he’ll never get back. 

He feels Lucas' foot gently nudge his, and then he looks up to see Lucas looking at him, soft. 

Eliott smiles at him. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to.” Lucas says, gently. 

Eliott shakes his head. “No, it’s okay.” 

“Just,” Lucas eyes flick down to the floor. “If it’s something I ever did, or anything, you can tell me—“

“No, Lucas.” He closes his eyes and sighs heavily. “It’s not anything to do with you. I just had a depressive episode, for a bit.”

“Oh,” Lucas whispers. “I’m sorry—“

“For what?” 

Lucas shrugs. “I didn’t realise.” 

“No,” Eliott then puts the ice cream on the floor, bringing a hand to rest on Lucas’ knee. “I’m sorry, for not telling you. Or texting you. It’s hard to do anything really.” 

“Hey,” Lucas put his hand on his chin. “I don’t care.” Lucas shakes his head. “Or, no. I do care. But not because you didn’t text me, but I care about you. You don’t have to apologise for that.” 

“No, I do.” 

“Eliott-“

“No,” Eliott says gently. He pushes away from Lucas' hand. “I do. I’ll get like this a lot, be it small or big. And I’ll do things that might affect you. And although it’s expected, it doesn’t mean I want it to happen. If I hurt you, I want to be sorry. Always.” 

“Okay.” Lucas whispers. 

“I’m not used to this.” Eliott admits, after a while. He draws up his knees and tucks them under himself, rests his chin on top of them. As if making himself smaller will make this any easier. 

“Used to what?” Lucas says, tilts his head. 

“Letting people stay.” 

Lucas looks at him for a beat. He then moves slowly, lifts his legs up as well. He brings his hands up to rest on Eliott’s knees where his hands lay together. Taking them apart, he intertwines them with his own instead, fits them together like stitching in a fabric. His palms are soft in his and Eliott squeezes them. 

“Why did you let me stay, then?” Lucas asks. 

“Because,” Eliott shrugs. “You’re different.” Lucas smiles at him and Eliott smiles back. “I feel so good with you.” 

Lucas let’s go of one hand to sift through his hair, dragging his fingers through the stands until he pulls slightly, lifting his head up. He takes Eliott's cheek in his hand and kisses him. It feels lighter than the air around them.

“I feel so good with you too.” He whispers. 

Eliott leans in and kisses him again, deeper and he tastes like ice cream. It makes his bones feel like liquid and he closes his eyes, letting it pool over him.

“And hey, since we’re being open here. This is new to me too,” Lucas smiles, drags his thumb across Eliott’s bottom lip. “But there’s something about you that makes me feel brave.” 

“I think,” Eliott swallows. “I think I love you, Lucas.” 

“You think?” Lucas smiles, raises his eyebrows. 

Eliott nods. 

Lucas kisses him. “I think I love you too.” 

  
They end up going back to Lucas’. He drives them back on his bike, and Eliott hugs him tight from behind, perhaps a little too tight. At every red stop, Lucas always snakes his hand down to Eliott’s and squeezes gently. 

And when they do get back, Lucas announces that they’re going to have a party, which consists of Lucas pushing back his sofa in his already too small living room, all of the blankets and pillows he can find thrown on the floor, string lights hung up haphazardly, throwing a warm tangerine tint all around the room. It wraps around Eliott and Lucas, warm, and Eliott feels like he could melt into the soft pillows beneath him. Lucas throws on an old record, a slowed down rock number, and he dances as Eliott watches. He’s nursing a beer whilst Eliott sips on his water, and it feels like coming to a home he’s always known, like a place he’s always felt safe and comfortable in. It feels like someone cupping his face and telling him he can finally breathe. 

Eliott laughs as Lucas moves slowly to the music, and then he’s yanking him up from the floor, despite the way Eliott moans. He snakes his arms around Eliott’s middle, leans his head on his chest and sways them. And, when he closes his eyes, wraps his arms around Lucas’ back as well, he lets out a sigh he feels he’s been keeping in for a while; it burns his lungs in a way that feels good. 

_ I love you,  _ he whispers. 

Lucas says it back, too. Like he always will. 

And later, Eliott goes home alone, a deep exhaustion tugging at his whole body. He feels spent, and instead of shame it feels like a promise. That things will always get better. 

Lucas texts him before he sleeps. 

_ did you know that most stars come in pairs?  _

_ they form when two stranger stars meet and stick together 🖇  _

And then, 

_ I love you.  _

Eliott falls asleep with his phone in his hand, smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 
> 
> if you’re still interested in this / keeping tabs i’m sorry it took so long. i just got kinda stuck with it & had bad writers block : ( but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! 
> 
> lyrics at the beginning are from november song by stornoway 
> 
> my tumblr is @mauuvelesbian :’)
> 
> sending love & light to everyone 🌱


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